


Smooth Seas Don't Make Good Sailors

by TortiQuercu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortiQuercu/pseuds/TortiQuercu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[SPOILERS] Follows the events of CA:tWS and 1-17 Turn, Turn, Turn. Allegiances are in question and tables are still turning as the former Agents of SHIELD press an advantage against Hydra, but run the risk of exposing Skye - who has something their enemies want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't seen episode 1:18 yet, keep that in mind as this likely has already been AU'ed. I wrote this while being stuck in an airport after my flight was delayed, making me miss Agents of SHIELD nooooo! I might make it multi-chapter depending on what y'all think, please let me know! Massive 1:17 spoilers within... sorry, UK.

They leave him stewing in an interrogation room for hours, chained at the wrists and ankles to the table. He knows he's on a military base because of the guard in Army camo behind him, but aside from that, he's still scattered and confused since regaining consciousness and finding himself in enemy hands.

When the door opens, he's not sure who he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't  _her_. He tries to hide his shock but fails, his eyes wide and mouth falling just the slightest bit open at the sight of her. She looks small and fragile, clutching two water bottles and a metal clipboard tightly to her chest. She nods curtly to the guard in the corner, who then proceeds out of the room, closing the door with finality after himself.

She sits in the chair across from him without so much as glancing his way. Several minutes go by in silence, she's staring down at the clipboard in her lap, and his eyes are fixed on her. Eventually she looks up at him, her brown doe eyes uncharacteristically hard. His heart stutters and it betrays him into speaking.

"Skye." It comes out rather dry and choked. Ward winces.

Skye responds by unscrewing the cap from one of the water bottles and popping a plastic straw into it. She slides it across the table and he immediately bends over to drain most of it.

"Thank you," he says when he sits back up, and she raises an eyebrow. He frowns. "What?"

She shrugged. "I'm just thinking, why bother with the courtesy? You're a traitor and a murderer, is being polite really a necessity at this point?"

He stares at her, noticing all the little things he has been missing so desperately over the last five months. The long curls of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, the bright spark of intelligence in her huge eyes. She's wearing a long purple sweater and black leggings and she looks young and vulnerable.  _No_ , he thinks to himself.  _He can_ _'_ _t do this. Stay strong_. "Force of habit," he shrugs in reply.

"Ah," she says, and he thinks there is a flicker of hurt across her face. Good. They can't weaken him by sending  _her_. She shouldn't even be here.

"You shouldn't be here," spills out of him before he can stop it.

She cocks her head. "Why not?"

"You're not an interrogator," he sneers. "This is a waste of time."

She blinks. "Well, maybe I just wanted to see you."

"No," Ward snaps in reply, but inside his chest clenches.  _Dammit. She shouldn_ _'_ _t be here, he won_ _'_ _t be able to keep it together if she_ _'_ _s here_.

"Okay, then," she says slowly. "So I'm here because it was my operation that brought you in and I wanted to see the results with my own eyes."

 _No no no no_. He knew it was the truth, even as he tried not to believe it. "How?" he choked out.

She pulled a flat rectangular object off the top of the clipboard and slid it onto the table. The hard drive. The one she gave him with all their team's secrets. He stared at it, not understanding.

"Hidden tracer program & Trojan. Every time you plugged it in, I had you. Location, systems access, every keystroke entered. We've been inside every Hydra system since you left."

He could hear his blood rushing in his ears. "But that would mean…"

"I knew. Yes."

"How long have you known? How?" he asked, his voice sitting strangely in his throat.

Skye's face was expressionless. "AC says I'm good at reading people. I guess he's right. I always knew you were holding something back, Ward. It was obvious. And when things started to get really heavy, you began saying stuff that worried me. About never forgiving... about never regretting... disconcerting things. When I started combing through psych profiles, I read yours and I knew for sure."

His mind was racing, the questions piling up in his brain faster than he could organize them to put to her. "Did Coulson know? Why didn't you stop me?"

Skye chewed her lip briefly, and nodded slowly. "Yes, I told Coulson and we made contingency plans. Things like the hard drive. He wanted to take things further, but... but I..." She trailed off and looked down at her hands. He could see that she was fighting for composure.

"Skye?" he whispered.

When she looked back up, her gaze was hard again. "I made a bad call. I thought, based on your past, that maybe there was hope... that maybe what you needed was a family and a place to belong and someone who loved you." Her voice cracked at the end and she seemed furious about it. "I was wrong," she spat. "And good men and women died because of it."

 _Someone who loved him_. His head started to swim. "In the supply room... you knew..."

"Yes," she snapped. "I knew but it didn't matter to me. I wanted to show you, Ward, that whatever happened, there was someone real who cared about you. Something worth fighting for. I knew I was out of time. I thought I could convince you..." she shook her head in anger. "That's enough. We both know how that played out. You left with the hard drive and our world collapsed."

An unfamiliar cold feeling had begun tingling in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if it was the feeling of having made a terrible mistake. "The hard drive..." he murmured. "It's encrypted."

"Of course it is," Skye scoffed. "Despite the events in the janitorial closet, I'm not a  _total_  idiot. I note that quite a few hackers took a crack at it, though."

His breath was quickening. "They are hunting you, Skye! They need you to decrypt it. I was trying to throw them off, little things, whenever I could... trying to protect you. Please, you have to believe me..."

"I do," she interrupted. "I was watching everything you did, remember? It took me a while to figure out what the hell you were doing. A deleted log entry here, a misplaced decimal or a typo there... you were taking stupid risks. They almost caught you a few times, I had to revert your changes more than once."

He stared at her. "So while I was trying to save you, you were saving me."

She shrugged sadly. "Unlike you, Ward, I never wanted anyone to die."

He bit back his excuses and denial of her words, he knew it would be a waste of time and breath. He was even more confused than before, he felt like he might shatter apart from the inside. He started to shake, foreign emotions beginning to bubble out of him. He looked up at Skye, his eyes wide and pleading, his face deathly pale.

She stood up abruptly, snatching the hard drive back up from the table. "So that's the story," she murmured. "There is an interrogator en route for you, I'm sure that isn't a surprise. I heard they sent Agent Romanoff. You should be proud."

"Skye, wait..." he whispered miserably.

"Save it," she retorted. "This is the mess you got yourself into on your own... and that's how you'll face the consequences. Alone."

He shook his head in despair. "No, that's not... I mean, _yes_ , I know it's my mess and I'll pay any price. But Skye... it's  _you_  that I'm scared for. They are going to find you and I would die to protect you if I could, please. Please listen to me!"

She had turned her back to him but his words still pierced her. Ever so slightly she began to tremble, and it was only seconds later that the door opened with a bang and Agent Triplett strode in, his face like thunder.

"Time to go, Baby Girl," he said to her warmly, at total odds with the look of absolute hatred he had turned on Ward. Trip gently folded an arm around her shoulder and she nodded. Without looking back, she allowed Trip to guide her from the interrogation room, completely missing the look of utter devastation on Ward's face.

The door closed behind them and her family was there. Hands wrapped around her, rubbed her back, pushed the brown tresses from her face. May took the hard drive and clipboard out of her arms as Fitz murmured soothing words. Simmons smiled encouragingly and Coulson nodded at her.

"You were great, Skye," May told her, which helped to slow the tears that were building in her eyes.

"You're a trooper," Coulson concurred. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"We watched the whole thing," Simmons chimed in. "I don't think he noticed, do you?"

Skye shook her head. Her hands pressed against her oversized sweater and thoughtfully wrapped around the bump of her rapidly expanding waistline. "Nope," she said with a small smile. "I'm positive. He didn't catch on to our little monkey at all."


	2. Chapter 2

Agent Natasha Romanoff was sitting at the desk, pulling her long red hair into a pony tail when Coulson stepped into small office, carrying two mugs of coffee. He closed the door quietly and gave her a small smile.

"I can't shake the feeling that I'm bring pranked, Phil," she mumbled around the elastic in her mouth. "First Maria tells me you're still alive, then she sends me across the country and back into the agency for the easiest interrogation of my career. What's next? If Stark jumps out of a cake in a G-string, I'll break your collarbones. Fair warning."

Coulson sighed, shoved one of the mugs over to Natasha and dropped into the leather chair across from her. "I'm so sorry, Nat. Trust the system, we kept saying. I thought I was doing the right thing. Little did we know the system was already rotten at its core."

She nodded in agreement, snapping the elastic around her hair. "I keep hoping it's all a bad dream," she added. "I wish I'd wake up."

"Pinch me when you do," he replied sullenly. "Tell me more about the easiest interrogation ever. I take it he talked?"

She made an indelicate sound. "Grant Ward had already asked for some paper and written eight pages of notes before I even stepped in there. Not a whole lot of solid intel we didn't already know thanks to your hacker's Trojan, but plenty about the motives and madness. It'll help in the tying up of loose ends."

Coulson was frowning. "What's the problem, Phil?" Natasha asked.

"I don't get it," he admitted. "Why roll over now? Ward's highly trained in resisting interrogation, that's why Hill pulled you in. Are you sure he didn't just give you a pile of garbage?"

She gave him a wry smile. "I know what you're thinking. I assure you that crossed my mind and I proceeded on that assumption until I was convinced otherwise. He's rolling, yeah, but not without cause."

"Oh?"

Natasha leaned forward. "Phil…. your tech girl. Skye."

Coulson raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Did you know he screwed her in a supply room while The Hub was under attack?"

He was glad he wasn't taking a sip of his coffee at that moment, or there was a good chance he would have sprayed it all over his former operative. He set his mug down and coughed. "Actually, yeah. I  _did_  know that."

"She came clean about the janitor's closet?"

Coulson gave her a flat stare, and her lips twitched. "You've been spending too much time with Barton," he said accusingly.

"Well, we're both out of work now, apparently," she replied expansively. "Bad puns help kill the time. Okay, so your protégé has already admitted to some curiously-timed fraternization, then."

"She had to," Coulson murmured. He withdrew his cell phone from his jacket pocket and called up a photograph to its screen. He slid it across the desk to Natasha, and she picked it up.

"боже мой," she breathed, looking down at a grainy ultrasound photo. "You're sure it's his?"

Phil nodded. "The dates add up, and I believe her."

Natasha turned the phone around in her hands, her head cocked as she studied the image. "He doesn't know. What the…. can you make any sense of this?"

Phil leaned forward. "Yeah, here, let me show you. This the head, see? You can even see its teeny nose. The spine goes down here, those are its little legs. This is a hand, here."

Natasha frowned at the ultrasound. "Okay. I see it… sort of. Well. Okay, not really. It looks like a creepy little alien, I'll be honest."

He took his phone back from her. "We call it Little Monkey. Fitz started it. If you knew Fitz, that would make a lot more sense…"

"Phil," she interrupted firmly. "I'm going to gloss over the fact that you have a pictures of an ultrasound on your phone, of a baby that you call 'Little Monkey', okay? I think it's in everyone's best interests if I do."

He stared wistfully at the photo for a long moment, before tucking his phone back in his suit jacket. "Fair enough."

Natasha leaned back in her chair. "Leaving Little Monkey aside for the moment, Ward is pretty hung up on your girl. He knows they need Skye to decrypt the data they pulled from the hard drive. They're eventually going to discover her virus as well — they'll kill two birds with one stone if they bring her in. Ward seems pretty desperate to head that off. She's in real danger, Phil."

His eyes narrowed. "Over my dead body."

"Funny, that's exactly what Ward said," Natasha commented. "But don't underestimate this threat. Most Hydra defectors apparently don't see that much of an ideological difference between Hydra and SHIELD."

"That's absurd!" Coulson protested.

"I think the question has opened itself up for debate, now, hasn't it?" Natasha shrugged. "Look, Phil… I fled a regime that thought it could protect people by controlling them, by controlling the information…. but the joke was on me, wasn't it? I'm not sure where I ended up was any better. You need to realize that Ward and the others believe they are fighting for a just cause. A cause that is to them what SHIELD was over the Red Room & the KGB for me."

"You're starting to make me nervous, Tasha," Coulson said, although neither of them were really sure he was joking.

"My loyalty isn't in question…. not today, anyway," she smiled. "I chose to throw my philosophical peccadillos out the window in exchange for control over my own body and a certain Iowa circus boy waiting for me at home. Ward is making a similar choice. He's rolling for Skye, that's it in a nutshell."

"He brought this down on her himself," Coulson replied sourly.

"Yeah," Natasha murmured softly. "He knows. So… Little Monkey. You gonna tell Ward?"

Coulson stood up abruptly. "Not my news to tell," he said smoothly, placing both hands on the desk and leaning forward to meet her eyes. "But if I do have a say, I'm going to bury Grant Ward in a dark, concrete prison ten storeys underground, and he'll never hear a single breath about his child or its mother for the rest of his long, joyless, miserable life."

* * *

"боже мой" = "My God"


	3. Chapter 3

Less than three weeks later, they lost their back door to Hydra.

"God dammit," Skye cursed, leaning over the shoulder of one of their new hackers. He was Rising Tide — most of them were — an unlikely alliance brokered by Skye and Miles Lydon when they realized it was time to bury the hatchet and face the common enemy.

The young hacker looked up at her, his scowl enhanced by the barbell piercings in his lower lip. "Sorry, Skye," he said in a thick Southern drawl. "They did a simultaneous wipe & reset of all the servers. We're out."

She straightened and pressed her hands into her aching back. "We knew it was going to happen eventually, Shark. Don't worry about it," she replied, sounding much calmer than she felt. "Notify the Triskelion and the Bathysphere, make sure Miles has every last data packet right up until they pulled the plugs."

Skye turned around and addressed the tiny African woman at the next monitor. "Tilelli, commence Phase 3 of Operation Gyroscope."

The Tuareg hacker nodded curtly as her fingers flew across her keyboard. "Yes, Skye. Phase 3 of Gyroscope, initiated." Tilelli looked up at her, her wide eyes sad, in bizarre contrast to the fierce tattoos covering much of her face. "Will you be returning with us to the Bathysphere?"

Skye patted the small woman's shoulder. "Not this time," she replied, and she swallowed hard as dozens of eyes turned to her. She was suddenly under the gaze of everyone in the room, her entire team… and yes, it was her team, her friends, personally selected from the ranks of the Rising Tide, with a couple of old SHIELD and Stark Industries techs thrown in. Her chest tightened as the room went silent.

"Come on, you guys," she said with forced levity. "You know my place is here. Until we regain control of every system, until we scrub the corruption from every node… we're not going to be free. I'm here until that happens."

"They'll be coming for you, next," Shark drawled. "You know that, right?"

"That's why I'm here," a voice rang from the corner, and Agent Triplett stepped forward. "And Agent May, and Agent Coulson, and even Agents Simmons and Fitz. We won't let that happen."

Shark nodded slowly. "Well. Y'all know what you're doing, I s'pose. We'll keep doing our part… you keep Skye safe, you hear? Or the Rising Tide will be on your tails next."

Trip smiled. "You got it, cowboy."

Tilelli wrapped her arms around Skye's midriff without warning, eliciting a loud "oof!" from the pregnant hacker. She pressed her tattooed face into Skye's belly. "Stay safe, Little Monkey," the small woman murmured, before shifting into her native Tamasheq language. Skye's unborn baby responded with great enthusiasm to the musical sounds, making both women laugh as it kicked.

"I'll be careful, Tilly. I promise," Skye assured her friend.

"D'okay," the Tuareg smiled as she stood up. "Gyroscope 3 is go," she declared loudly to the room. "Everyone report to their transports in 15 minutes!"

The room began to empty out, everyone pausing to give Skye a reassuring squeeze or hug as they left. When only Trip and Skye remained, the hacker took a deep breath, and started to cry. She moved into Trip's open arms and pressed her face into his collar.

"They'll be safe, Skye," he whispered into her hair. "The Bathysphere is completely clean, Hydra doesn't even know it exists."

"I know," she wept softly. "I'm sorry, Trip. It's hormones, you can't argue logic against hormones!"

He smiled. "My old partner, Damon… he would tell me stories about when his wife was pregnant. It sounded crazy! The mood swings and the swollen feet… the back aches, the food cravings…. man. That's how I know that God made women the stronger creature. And Baby Girl, you're the strongest one I know. We all know it."

Skye pulled her head up from his chest and beamed at him. "Thanks, Trip," her voice was rough but strong. "I don't know what I'd do with you all."

"Eat more pickled herring, probably," he teased her.

She laughed. "Look, that shit is delicious, I can't explain why."

"It smells to high heaven, Skye," he exclaimed. "I understand the whole 'eating for two' thing, but damn, girl. That baby is going to come out with a herring in each hand."

Skye raised her hands defensively. "Don't look at me! I hate fish! I should ask Ward, maybe he's got Nordic heritage or somethi…." she trailed off, her face falling. "Wow, okay. I don't know where that came from. I'm sorry."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Skye. It is what it is. You know none of us are going to hold it against the Little Monkey, and you're not going to, either. That baby is going to be loved so hard and so much. His origin story isn't gonna matter."

"I… I miss him, Trip," Skye whispered, folding her arms around her belly.

Trip's face hardened. "Well, that's where you and I vary, I guess."

She sighed. "Yeah."

"Let's go, Skye. We'd better tell the team about Gyroscope, and figure out how best to keep you safe. Whatever's left of Hydra, they'll be looking for you now."


	4. Chapter 4

The dissolution of SHIELD had created a bureaucratic nightmare for the US military and intelligence agencies, as suits scrambled to relocate dangerous criminals and weapons of mass destruction. The tribunal for a double agent ranked somewhat lower on the priority list, leaving Grant Ward in constitutionally iffy custody for many weeks before anyone came looking for him.

At least his cell was comfortable. He'd slept on far worse bunks in his time, and the food here was actually pretty good. They were happy to give him virtually any book he requested. His only complaint, he admitted, was over a pipe dream…. he'd asked countless times to speak to Skye, yet she never came. He doubted his requests had ever been passed on, and he idly wondered whose orders had blocked them. Where was she now? Did she even know he was here?

The door to the detainment block was a huge metal behemoth that made an unholy din when its hydraulics were activated to open it. It gave him time to fold his page and close his book, run his hands through his hair and stand before his visitors arrived in front of his cell. He was genuinely surprised to see a pair of SHIELD's deadliest operatives peering back at him.

"Agent May, Agent Romanoff," Ward inclined his head politely. "It's been a while."

Natasha Romanoff curled her lips into something close to a small smile. "Good morning, Grant."

He glanced at May, but she remained silent. He noted that she'd cut her hair short and she looked tired. He wondered if she was spending a lot of time in combat. He wondered if Skye was safe…

"You're probably wondering what brings us two lovely ladies to your doorstep," Natasha said lightly. Ward couldn't help but notice May's eyes tighten. She obviously wasn't a big fan of Natasha's sense of humour.

"I assume you're the execution squad," he quipped in return.

"Don't tempt me," May muttered.

"Close," replied Natasha. "Transfer detail. May and I will be escorting you to Quantico."

Ward was confused. "The Marines?"

"They have offered to put you up, yeah. Congressional hearings are ongoing in DC right now, I expect they'll fold your tribunal into the proceedings and offer you a deal if you testify. That's up to you, of course…. you can hash that out with the JAG Corps or whoever is going to deal with you."

"But not SHIELD?"

May scoffed. "No, _genius_. Not SHIELD. We've got our hands a bit full right now, what with all the back-stabbing traitors and cyber warfare going on right now."

"Cyber warfare?" Ward demanded fiercely as Natasha laid a cautionary hand on May's arm. "Skye? Is she okay?"

"Oh, fuck you!" May snapped at him. Natasha's hand curled into her arm.

"Melinda…" the redhead warned.

"This was a bad idea," railed May, scowling.

"I think I agree with her," Ward injected.

"Shut up, both of you," Natasha growled. "This isn't rocket science. Ward, we are bringing you from Point A to Point B. Don't ask any questions. May, get your homicidal impulses under control or I'll taze you myself. I don't know why Coulson wants me to keep an eye on you, but…."

It was at this point that a siren began to sound and an irregular sequence of blue lights began to blink in the detention block.

"What the hell is going on? Is the base under attack?" Ward demanded. He gripped the bars of his cell door.

The pair of women watched the lights flash for several moments, counting the pattern.

"Gyroscope," gasped Natasha.

"Shit," exhaled May.

"What the fuck is Gyroscope?" shouted Ward.

Natasha quickly began to type a code into the key pad beside Ward's cell. "Listen up, Ward," she announced briskly. "I've got some nice shackles for you in the back of my Quinjet and parking space waiting at Quantico. If you make any moves, I'll shoot you. If you twitch, I'll shoot you."

"I might shoot you regardless," May added drily. She pulled a series of chains from a pouch on her belt. "Wrists and ankles, snap these on." She handed the shackles to Ward through the bars.

"If this base is under attack, I could help," Ward said, clicking the chains on.

"Oh, suuure," May replied brightly. "I'll give you all the guns and all the secrets, and you can kill us and waltz back to Hydra before dinner!"

"That wasn't _exactly_ what I was thinking," he frowned.

"No shit!" May exclaimed, pulling the barred door open. She pulled a handgun from her side and disabled the safety. "Get moving."

Ward stepped out and began to follow Natasha from the detention block. "That's not an ICER," he commented back towards Agent May. "You're carrying a gun now?"

"Times change," May grumbled. "Funny how betrayal and insurrection will do that to a girl."

There was organized pandemonium in the corridor as they left detention. Ward gaped at soldiers hurrying in various directions while the blue lights continued to flash. He assessed their armour and weapons in an instant. "Okay seriously, what's Gyroscope?"

"Okay seriously, you think we're going to tell you?" May retorted.

"It's an evacuation operation," Natasha responded, signalling them to pick up their pace.

"Jesus Christ, Nat!" objected May. Natasha and Ward ignored her.

"For whom?"

Natasha unlocked another door. "Now _that_ , I can't tell you."

As Natasha began pushing the door open, they heard sounds of a spirited conversation. May suddenly leapt forward and tried desperately to grab Natasha's shoulder.

"Nat, _STOP!_ " she yelled, but it was too late.

The door swung open into a large hangar, and right in front of them were Shark and Skye. It happened in slow motion, Skye turned with her mouth open in an "O" of surprise, Grant's eyes met hers, and slid down her body to the prominent bump of her midsection. He stared, swaying dangerously on his feet, his jaw slack.

"Shit," Natasha swore, spinning around with the intent of shoving her prisoner back through the door, but realizing it was pointless.

Ward stared.

May lifted the gun up at Ward, and Skye made a strangled sound. Shark wrapped his arm around his mentor and began pulling at her, placing himself between them and the operatives. "Skye, move!" Shark bellowed at her, unable to get her to step away.

Ward stared.

Natasha looped an arm through Ward's and began to pull him away. May reached out with her empty hand and pushed his shoulder. He was immoveable… not resisting, but absolutely frozen in place.

"Ward," Skye whispered in shock.

His eyes flew back up to her face. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even now, even here. The heart that he spent his whole life refusing to believe he had broke inside him in that instant.

Skye turned to glare angrily at Agent May. "You said he wasn't here anymore!" she wailed. "I asked and begged, and you said he was gone!"

Unbelievably, his heart broke again. He tried to step forward, but Natasha swiftly kicked out his knee. He crumpled to the ground in front of her.

"NO!" Skye shouted, fighting against Shark's wiry grasp.

"STAY DOWN!" Natasha yelled at Ward as she grabbed her sidearm.

He was dazed and shaking. "Skye…." he mumbled, his voice breaking. "I asked to see you, every day. Every single day."

"Shut your goddamned mouth," May hissed at him. She looked at the hackers. "Shark, get her out of here, _now!_ "

Skye growled furiously in protest. "Let me go!"

Her distress caused Ward to snap back into sharp focus. "Let her go," he snarled darkly at the hacker holding Skye. "Let Skye and my baby go…. or I _will_ kill you."

"Awww fuck," Natasha grumbled. She pressed her wrist into Ward's shoulder and discharged her Widow's Bite. Electric current fired through him and knocked him unconscious as Skye began to scream.

Several members of the flight deck crew ran towards them, looking to Natasha for guidance. "Get her to the infirmary," she yelled at them over Skye's cries. "And get Agents Simmons and Triplett down there too."

"Yes, Agent Romanoff!" one of the crew members replied, and they assisted Shark in carrying the distraught hacker away.

Alone, the two women surveyed at each other over their inert prisoner. "Well," breathed May. "That couldn't have gone any worse."

"Not true," Natasha replied thoughtfully. "We're going to have to explain all this to Coulson… and I'm relatively sure that's going to be worse."

"I was sort of hoping we'd be halfway to Virginia before he found out." May leaned over and threaded her arms underneath one of Ward's shoulders, and gestured with her chin for Natasha to do the same. "Let's load him in before he comes around. Maybe we can sucker someone else into telling Phil."

Their eyes met over Ward's unconscious head. "Clint," they said simultaneously, grinning.

As they dragged Ward onto the Quinjet, Natasha pulled out her cellphone. "Hey baby," she murmured into the receiver. Ward groaned lightly, and she smacked him sharply across the back of the head. "Oh, that was nothing," she smiled. "So, are you busy? Not really? Okay, cool. I need a favour…. yeah. A pretty big favour."


	5. Chapter 5

Ultimately, they didn’t even make it out of the hangar.

“Agent Romanoff, abort transfer,” an operator called in over the Quinjet radio. “We just received a transmission from Quantico. There’s been an explosion on the base, the Marine Corps Brig is under lockdown. They are no longer willing to accept Hydra prisoners.”

“это пиздец!” cursed Natasha in her native language.

May rubbed her forehead wearily.  “Can we pretend we didn’t hear that? Let’s drop Prince Charming off a cliff then fly around in circles for a few hours.”

Natasha unbuckled herself from the pilot’s seat and stood up.  “I’m blaming you, Mel. You’re the one who said it couldn’t get any worse.”

May grunted. “Skye is going to skin me alive.”

“I doubt Simmons would allow it. The exertion of flaying probably isn’t good for the baby,” the red-haired agent advised. “Let’s get Ward back into detention before he wakes up.”

“Last chance to put a bullet in his head instead,” May offered with uncustomary and macabre cheer.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I’m in enough trouble for one morning.”

 

* * *

 “How is it possible to cause so much trouble in _one morning?!_ ” Coulson was raging at the operatives less than an hour later. Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton was lounging in a chair behind him, smirking at the women.

 “How were we supposed to know Skye would follow her team to the hangar?” Natasha protested. “She wasn’t supposed to be there!”

“What ever happened to reconnaissance?” Coulson retorted. “You were transporting a dangerous criminal! It would behoove you well to at least take a peek behind a door before strolling through it!!”

“Okay, everyone, let’s rein it in,” Barton spoke up from across the room.  “What’s done is done. As much fun as this is to watch, Phil’s girl is in distress. Not much point in cover-ups now. Let her see Ward.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?? That’s a terrible idea,” Phil responded emphatically. 

“Why, because he played you all? I don’t know if you’ve looked around recently, but that’s kinda going around. Besides, I thought you knew he had turned long before the chips went down.”

“He _killed people_ , Clint,” May growled.

“He’s a Specialist, that’s what they _do!_ ” Barton exclaimed. “I’m sorry if this is unpleasant news for you all, but we _actively recruit_ sociopaths like Grant to do our dirty work. Frankly, considering his true allegiance, you should consider it an honour that he didn’t slit your throats in your sleep months ago. That means something!”

“It means Garrett had him on a short leash,” May muttered.

 “Bullshit,” Barton replied as he stood. “There’s zero contact in a sleeper op, Mel, you know that. He was calling his own shots. If he’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“Maybe,” she groused.

“Clint is right,” Natasha sighed. “I know you guys are hurting, but you’re letting it blind you.”

“He betrayed us,” snarled Coulson.

“Not exactly,” Barton gently gripped his Phil’s shoulder.  “And you need to focus. There’s no rule book that says Hydra can’t use dirty tactics, and you’re kidding yourself if you think SHIELD hasn’t done the same.  For fuck’s sake, Phil…. how many of Tasha’s ops did you design? How many times did you send her in to betray someone?”

Coulson’s shoulders slumped and May’s eyes fell to the floor.  “We trusted him,” she whispered.

“Live and learn,” Natasha shrugged. “And Clint is right. At any point when the shit started to fly, Ward could have put a bullet into each of you and flown home with your fancy jet. But he didn’t.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” moaned Phil.

 “You’re too good, is your problem,” Natasha smiled. “You haven’t spend enough time in the ethical black holes we live in.”

 Phil stared at her. “ _…_ _. completely in the dark. That_ _’s where we live_ ,” he murmured. The other agents looked at him quizzically. His eyes widened.  “It’s…it’s something Skye said to me, a long time ago. And she was right. Dammit, that girl. How is she always right??”

“You have a knack for picking them,” Clint replied magnanimously. “Remember, I was your first.”

“He’s been trying to forget,” winked Natasha, shattering the last of the tension in the room.

May cocked her head at Coulson.  “What was Skye right about, Phil?”

“I was forgetting what Skye is best at. Reading people. She knew Ward was dirty, yet she still believed in him.”

Clint snorted. “More than that, I’d say, judging from what the stork will be bringing in a few months…”

“Very cute, Barton,” Coulson grimaced. “But my point is that I’ve been making a huge mistake. Interrogating Ward gave us nothing we didn’t already know, and he’s been sitting on his ass in a jail cell since. If I’d parked Skye on the other side of the bars weeks ago, who knows what he’d be willing to do by now.”

May’s face clouded. “But…. Little Monkey. You’re not suggesting we use an unborn baby for leverage, are you?”

“We live in the dark, May. Hydra isn’t playing fair, it’s high time we return the favour. Ward is vulnerable in only one place, and I think I’m willing to stick a knife in there and twist if it means bringing Centipede down once and for all. I don’t need him to have an ideological epiphany or an existential crisis. I just need him to fight for the one good thing he’s got. And I’m pretty sure she’s willing to cooperate.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Skye woke up dizzy and nauseous in the infirmary. A vicious headache was blooming behind her eyes as she scanned her surroundings. Jemma was at her elbow, holding her hand and smiling cautiously.

"Did you… sedate me?" Skye rasped at the biochemist.

Simmons glanced guiltily across the bed. Skye turned to see Agent Triplett at her other side.

"Did she sedate me?" she demanded of Trip.

"Skye…." Simmons began sweetly. "I was very careful, I assure you. It was just a teeeeeny dose of pregabalin, a mild benzodiazepine…. well, as mild as they get, I mean…OOOOH!" she broke off as Skye shot up and grabbed her by the lab coat.

"Don't… ever… do…. that… again," Skye hissed at her friend.

Antoine had his arms around Skye in an instant, gently pulling her away from Simmons. "Whoa, there, Momma," he warned. "Jem and I didn't make that call lightly, but we made it together. You were in hysterics when we got down here, and that's not safe for you  _or_ the little monkey, okay?"

Skye glared at him, but didn't comment.

"I'll let Coulson know she's awake," said Simmons, pulling out a cellphone.

"No need," a voice called from the infirmary door, and there Coulson was. He was knotting his tie as he approached. "How are you feeling?" he asked the hacker.

"Homicidal," she griped. "I'd ask if you knew Ward was on the base here this whole time, but I already know the answer to that. You lied to me, Coulson. Of all people."

"I realize it's not the best time for a semantic argument," he replied smoothly, "but technically you never asked me specifically. You asked if you could see him, and I said no…."

Skye began swearing at him. He raised the palms of his hands to her defensively.

"…. and I realize that was wrong. I'm sorry, Skye. Fully and unequivocally. If there is  _one thing_  I never should have doubted in the middle of all this, it's you."

Skye continued to bluster for several moments, before exhaling loudly. "Damn straight," she eventually muttered. "Is Ward okay? What happened?"

"He's fine," Simmons assured her. "I saw to him myself. Agent Romanoff just… ummm.. zapped him. A little bit. With her… uhh… Widow… bracelet? He's back in the detention block, had some electrolytes. He's peachy now."

"He was being transferred for trial, but there's been a Hydra attack at Quantico so it's been called off," Coulson elaborated.

Skye raised an eyebrow. "They knew he was coming?"

"It's unlikely. There are a number of Hydra defectors being held in the Marine Corps Brig, it would have been a priority target even without him there."

"I want to see him," she whispered, her gaze fixed on her hands.

"Okay," Coulson answered simply. Her eyes flew up to his face, she could hear Simmons gasp and Trip did a double-take.

"I'm sorry," Skye replied slowly as she stared at her senior officer. "It sounded like you said 'okay', as in…. 'yes, it would be acceptable for you to visit Grant Ward'."

Agent Coulson turned to Simmons. "Is she okay to leave the infirmary?"

Jemma's mouth was still hanging open. "Um. Well.. yes. Yes! I suppose so. Just let me remove the fetal heart monitor and the pulse ox…" she reached towards Skye, who was already eagerly pulling the medical appliances off her body.

"Sir, you're sure about this?" Agent Triplett inquired.

"Yep," Coulson replied. He held his hand out to Skye, to assist her down from the gurney. It was painfully casual, as though they hadn't spent weeks hiding the truth from her.

She took his hand with hesitance. "For real?" she asked in a small voice, instantly making Phil feel terribly guilty.

He nodded in response. "For real. I'll have to brief you first. There's a long list of subjects you can't discuss with him… it'll be simpler, actually, just to tell you what you  _can_  mention. I also have a number of questions for Ward that I want you to pose, where possible. And finally, I need you to promise me that you understand he's officially an enemy combatant."

"I know that, AC," she murmured sadly.

"You can see him alone, but cameras and mics will be on, and you'll have a panic button."

Skye nodded, moving restlessly from foot to foot. "When?"

"Whenever you're ready."

"Now."

"Then let's go."

* * *

Ward had heard the analogy of a prisoner pacing like a large cat before, a panther or lion or other hunter bristling with confined power. He felt that way to his core right now as he strode back and forth, clenching and unclenching his hands in fury, ready to start tearing the fixtures from his cell wall. Whether is was berserker rage or his damaged psyche he neither knew nor cared. His face was hot and his vision was going red, he could feel himself losing control _the room was echoing he reached out to rip the barred door right off its hinges…_

"Ward?"

… the world screeched to a halt. He could hear his panting breath and the racing beat of his heart, pounding like a war drum. His vision cleared, slowly, to reveal the concerned gaze of the woman standing in front of him.

Part of his brain wondered how he has missed the deafening noise of the detention block door, another part exulted that this was proof that Skye was an angel or some sort of otherworldly being who could simply manifest in front of him when he needed her most.

Ward gaped at her, taking in her heart-shaped face and dewy eyes. Her expression was filled with worry. Her hands were folded across her rounded belly, across…. their baby.

He watched curiously as his right hand lifted up of its own accord, shaking violently as it reached through the metal bars. She grasped it immediately with both hands, enveloping it in her warmth and softness and it felt like a horrible spell was broken.

"Skye," he gasped. He shoved his other arm through the bars and ran his thumb down her cheek, pausing only briefly when her tears began to spill. He wasn't sure what to say to her. Months had gone by since he returned to Garrett's side, but he still hadn't figured out how to explain a thing to her.

Her face wrinkled in distress. "Don't say it," she stammered, seemingly able to read his mind. "Whatever your motives or… your loyalties, wherever they lie… I know they don't align with me or mine. I've accepted that." She tried a weak smile. "I don't know what was genuine, if anything was… and I don't want to…"

"Skye," he interrupted, "it wasn't supposed to happen this way…"

She pulled away from him and shook her head emphatically. "I said 'no', Grant," she said firmly. "No excuses, no justifications. I'm a big girl and I took a risk. That's on me. Literally," she added drily, glancing down at her belly. "I'm not interested in the rationalization of why you fucked me right before stabbing me in the back. Keep that one for yourself."

Ward winced and pursed his lips in frustration. "Fine. You won't let me say what I need to, and I won't say what you want me to. So what now?"

Her face softened, and she shrugged. "I don't know. I… I just wanted to see you. Just to… I dunno. I guess it's stupid in retrospect. But it wasn't right to hide this from you," she gestured at her pregnant belly. "I'm an orphan, I couldn't do that to my baby. Or you."

He blinked at her several times. "Can I….?" he reached out again, towards her midsection, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"Sure. The feet are over here, if you want to try to catch a kick," she took his shaking hand and placed it against her side. As though on cue, their baby lashed out with a tiny blow that he felt clearly on the palm of his hand.

He felt cold from head to toe. "How far along…?" his voice came out deceptively calm.

"Twenty-eight weeks," she replied. "Out of forty, by the way…. in case you never went undercover as an obstetrician."

He couldn't stop the smile that appeared on his face. He wasn't sure that he'd ever smiled unintentionally before. It scared him. Everything about this scared him. "Is it a boy or a girl, do you know?"

She shook her head, causing her long brown tresses to bounce appealingly. He smothered the impulse to twine one around his fingers. "Jemma knows, but I didn't want to find out. We call it Little Monkey… you can probably guess who came up with that."

"Fitz," he nodded, and she smiled. Yes, he knew them too well… they had become his team. He knew that Fitz loved monkeys and prosciutto sandwiches, and Simmons was a wizard at Scrabble, that May drank green tea and her skin smelled like jasmine soap. And Coulson, he collected strange antiques and loved good food and fine wine. His mind was going blank. He'd never  _known_  people like this before. It was dangerously close to what he imagine a real family would be like.

And Skye…. well, his chest went inexplicably tight and his breath hitched at the mere thought of her. He pressed his fingertips against her abdomen and watched, amazed, as her face flushed and her eyes darkened. She let out a deep sigh and pushed his hand away.

"You don't get to do that to me anymore," she whispered, heavy with regret. "You chose a different path."

He swallowed heavily. "I.. I know you don't want to hear this," he said softly. "But everything I felt with you… I really felt it, Skye."

She closed her eyes as though in pain. "Ward, don't do this to us, please."

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" he urged her, grasping his prison bars in each hand. "I don't  _feel_  things, Skye. John saved me from Hell but it was too late for my… humanity. I never believed for a moment that was something I could recover… until I met you."

"Please, stop," she begged, tears sliding down her face anew.

He reached for her again, pulling her arms up to the bars and folding his hands around them. "Skye, listen to me," he said urgently. "Garrett wants that data, he's going to find you one way or an other. Every option he has involves you getting hurt. I can't let that happen."

"So why didn't you take him down, Ward," Skye exclaimed in frustration, "if you're so determined to protect me?"

He made a derisive sound. "Oh, please. It's not that easy. Cut off one head, Skye… another takes its place. We're not like SHIELD, with a few corrupt people hoarding all the secrets. No, I had to stay on top of him, try to divert him where I could…" he looked down at her belly. "But I had no idea…" he finished in a whisper.

She pulled one of her hands away and wiped the tears from her face. "Surprise!" she sang sarcastically.

"Skye, why are you still here?" he asked, his eyes searching her face. "I know you, you could have disappeared… Asia, South America. Erased every last trace. Had our baby, been safe," he choked. "What the hell are you still doing in this mess?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I can't tell you that," she replied solemnly. "I think we're venturing back into things we really shouldn't talk about. You're not going to change my mind, Ward, any more than I can change yours. The lines were drawn and we're on opposite sides."

"Capulet to my Montague," Ward sighed.

"Not exactly," Skye mumbled. "Romeo loved Juliet."

" _Yes_ , exactly," he replied intensely, causing her entire body to start trembling. "We're not going to get a happy ending either, Skye, but for what's it's worth… this Romeo did... and he still does.. love his Juliet."


	7. Chapter 7

Ward is eventually given far more privileges than he feels he has any rights to. Access to the gym is offered the same day he sees Skye. A week after that, he's allowed daily laps around the track, albeit under heavily armed guard. Soon a laptop appears, with no internet access but a hard drive pre-loaded with dozens of his favourite movies.

Most telling of all, though, are the regular visits from Skye… including one where she arrives with Agents May and Romanoff in tow, and shyly asks him if he wants to accompany her to an ultrasound appointment. On that day, his life changes.

It doesn't seem to surprise anyone when he asks to see Coulson immediately afterward. In fact, it seemed like Romanoff was deliberately hanging around the detention block after Skye left, just in case he had any pronouncements he felt like making. He's pretty sure there is a slight smirk on her face when she handed the cuffs back to him.

"How did the ultrasound go?" Natasha asked curiously. "Is it still a baby?"

"Sure looked like one," Ward replied wryly, snapping the handcuffs back on. "Not that I'm an expert."

He was lost in thought and glad Natasha didn't ask any more questions as she escorted him to Coulson's office. She knocked first, waited for a reply then peered into the room before pushing the door all the way open and gesturing him in. Coulson was rolling his eyes at her, she had donned a look of exaggerated innocence. Clearly he was missing an inside joke.

"Close the door, would you, Tasha?" his former senior officer said. "And have a seat, Grant. I hear you went with Skye to her check-up today. How'd it go?"

"Fine," Ward responded evenly, lowering himself into an empty chair. "But I'm sure you already knew that. I didn't ask to see you so that I could bounce baby names off you or get help planning a shower, if that's what you were hoping for."

Coulson loosened his tie and sat back in his chair. "No, I didn't figure as much. So why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here," glared Ward. "I won't say it hasn't been nice, having the extra rec time, the movies… some fresh air and a chance to get some sun. But I'm not an idiot, I see the ulterior motives. Shoving Skye at me? That's kind of underhanded, but okay. I get it. The baby, though? Really? I'll be honest, Coulson. I didn't see a dick move like that coming from you."

"I'd tell you that it wasn't my idea, but I don't think you'd believe me… so sure, why not? I could use the bad-ass cred. The real question, then, is did it work?"

Ward's eyes narrowed and he gave a short laugh. "What do you want me to do, Phil?"

"What are you  _prepared_  to do, Grant?" Coulson fired back, his face hard. "We have no reason to trust each other. It's what, over two months you've been here? Garrett hasn't come riding to your rescue in all this time. Frankly, Hydra is in pieces and I doubt he's stopped running long enough to even notice that you aren't grovelling at his heel. So what is it that you want,  _Agent Ward?_  What are  _you_  here to beg for?"

Natasha raised both eyebrows at Coulson behind Ward's back, and gave him a sly smile that suggested she was impressed.

Ward's chin had gone up defiantly. "So this is how we're playing it, then?"

Coulson stared at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" he demanded. "You betrayed my team! Because of your mentor, Skye  _nearly died_ , remember that?"

"I didn't know that was going to happen," Ward argued. "I never wanted any of you to get hurt, especially Skye!"

"Do you think that matters?!" Coulson yelled back. "What the hell is wrong with you? Did you think 'Hail Hydra' was a summer camp cheer? Did you ever read a goddamn history book? This is all classic Hydra bullshit, Ward! So yeah, I'm still pretty pissed off with you. I would be perfectly content to lock you up somewhere dark and cold, and throw away the key. The fact that you're even sitting here right now is a favour. A big one. And it's not for you…. so don't waste it."

Ward's hands had turned into angry fists, his face white with rage. Natasha shifted almost imperceptibly, ready to move to subdue him if needed. The men stared at each other for several tense moments before Ward's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

"Centipede," the turncoat agent grumbled.

Coulson sat back and rested his hands together. "Go on."

"It's more important to me…. to Garrett… than you realize. It's not all about super soldiers. Sure, that's an added bonus and it's why Hydra funds the research. Centipede technology is what's keeping Garrett alive…. but it's slowly failing. SHIELD wasn't going to save him. That miracle was apparently reserved for you alone," Ward's eyes glittered darkly.

Coulson's mouth opened in surprise. "What… how?"

Ward shook his head. "Not important. Your magical return from the dead was an opportunity we couldn't ignore. But now the GH-325 is gone and the only traces of it left are in the research on Skye's hard drive… and possibly in Skye herself. John is running out of time, and I'm not the only one who owes my life to him. Everything Centipede has left will be coming after her."

"Even you," Coulson murmured.

Ward nodded. "Even me. If I thought, for one second, that I could get the passcode out of her, I'd have done it and been out of here by now. But I know her…. she's loyal and brave and stubborn to a fault. It would have been futile to try. If I sit in my cell, biding my time… I'm stalling them. They are still waiting for me to come through for Garrett, she was safer with me here . They won't move on her until they're sure I've failed. But that time, it's getting close, Coulson. I can feel it. John is dying and they aren't going to wait for me much longer. And if she won't decrypt the data, they're going to put her in the lab and drain her dry in the hopes that enough of her blood will give them the GH-325."

Coulson went cold. "The baby."

Ward drew his lips into a thin line, and he nodded curtly. "If Centipede gets their hands on Skye, Phil, they'll rip that baby out of her and dissect it like a lab rat."

"ёбанный в рот," Natasha whispered, and while Coulson didn't speak Russian, he could tell from the looks on both of their faces that it wasn't a pretty turn of phrase.

"Jesus Christ," he added himself when he was finally able to breathe again.

"So that's what I'm asking for, Agent Coulson," said Ward wearily. "Their lives. Skye's and our baby's. I don't want John to die… but I'm not willing to sacrifice my own child to save him. I need your help. Please."


	8. Chapter 8

After getting over his initial starstruck nervousness, Fitz found that he quite enjoyed Agent Barton's company. The stocky archer was quiet, inclined to sit in the corner of their lab and watch him work in silence. Occasionally, the man known to most as Hawkeye would ask an intelligent question that showed he was paying close attention, such as "what's the theoretical maximum payload of a weaponized Retriever?" or "have you ever thought about a dendrotoxin arrowhead?", and Fitz always enjoyed talking about his work.

Before long, he had Barton's Stark-tech quiver disassembled on his work bench and was peering at a ball bearing under a magnifying glass when Agent Coulson walked into the lab. Fitz didn't see him, of course, as he was rather focussed on his work.

"Well, the striations on the bearings make me wonder, Clint…" Fitz was saying. "Have they tried a different titanium alloy? A vanadium-oxygen blend would give you better ductility… of course, if they had more vibranium kicking around, I'd be curious to see what a thin plating of that would do…"

"Fitz," Coulson snapped, causing the engineer to jump and Agent Barton to chuckle.

"Cor!" Fitz gulped. "Sorry, sir. I didn't see you come in."

"Clearly. I have a job for you and Simmons. Where is she?"

Fitz's face clouded over instantly. "Off with Trip somewhere, presumably. Who knows? Why would I know? I'm not her boyfriend. I don't even want to be her boyfriend."

Coulson and Barton both stared at Fitz with puzzled expressions. "Uhhh… okay. Just asking, Fitz. Clint, would you mind finding Agents Simmons for me, and send her down here?"

"On it," Hawkeye nodded. He looked down at the scattered components of his quiver. "Ummm… about this….?"

Fitz waved dismissively at him. "Give me an hour, I think you'll be happy with it."

Hawkeye grinned boyishly and left the lab, and Coulson turned serious. "Okay, Fitz, What I'm about to ask you goes no further than this lab. You make no notes and you talk to no one about it aside from myself and Jemma, is that clear?"

Fitz frowned. "Wait, hang on… 'is that clear'? Is that what you were about to ask me? If it was clear? Or is there something else…."

"Fitz. Focus."

"Yes sir, sorry. I'm clear. I… think."

"Good. Because this could really be Little Monkey's life on the line, and I'd hate to risk that on a technicality."

Fitz's eyes flashed and his back straightened. "Top secret, I understand. The toppest of secrets, sir."

"That's better. My question is, can you fix the Centipede Project?"

Fitz blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry… what?"

"Centipede. You know, Extremis-powered implants that go boom? Prosthetics that make good men into killing machines?"

"Yeeees," Fitz replied slowly. "I'm familiar with the technology, given that we've spent months trying to neutralize it. When you say 'fix', do you mean something beyond shooting them full of dendrotoxin and cutting the implants out?"

Coulson's face was grim. "Yes. I mean, can you make it work? Effectively, with no undesirable side effects such as insanity, spontaneous combustion and/or death?"

Fitz stared at him blankly for several moments. "It's possible, I suppose," he eventually said in an unexpectedly chipper fashion. "There are a lot of dependent factors, such as whether or not Extremis has been introduced and if so, whether it's stable… what the function of the implant is, what the function of the host is, which generation hardware we're looking at…"

Coulson nodded and interrupted. "What do you need to make this happen?"

"Simmons," he replied immediately. After another moment of thought, he added, "and the specs for every piece of Centipede and Cybertek hardware we've come across to date."

"The hard drive."

Fitz grimaced. "Yeah. I know we've been keeping that under pretty close wraps, but there's no way I could even start without the research we've already done… Mike Richards, Akela Amador, Deathlok…"

Coulson raised his hand grumpily. "I know, I got it, I got it. Dammit."

Fitz looked at him unhappily. "Agent Coulson, sir… if I could just say… well, I don't know why you'd want Project Centipede to be fully functional, but to do that, Skye has to decrypt the hard drive. Correct me if I'm wrong, here, but isn't that doing Hydra's work for them? Isn't that exactly what they want? It's basically a time bomb once that drive is unlocked. We could still have traitors in our midst, I mean….  _Trip_  could still turn out to be a Hydra agent…."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Fitz, he's  _not_ , how many times do we have to go over this?" Jemma Simmons exclaimed with great exasperation as she entered the lab. She smiled at Coulson. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yeah, thanks for coming down," Coulson responded. "I need you to drop everything else you're working on, you've got a new priority. Fitz will fill you in."

"It's the toppest of secrets," Fitz informed her solemnly.

"Oh, lovely," Simmons said wearily with a somewhat insincere, beaming smile. "So, even more secret than everything else we've been doing?"

"I think this one is classified even from ourselves," Fitz suggested. "So I'll tell you, but then I have to kill you before we get started."

"Brilliant!" she replied gleefully. "I've always wanted a tackle a toppest secret project while dead!"

"I think Skye is rubbing off on you in unhealthy ways, Jemma," Coulson interjected, rolling his eyes. "Fitz, I'll get started on your data, and I'll leave you both to it. The clock starts ticking… now."

* * *

The hard drive sat in the middle of Coulson's desk, with two sets of eyes staring down at it. Skye was the first to break.

"Soooo… you want me to decrypt it now," she repeated. "After everything we did to keep Hydra from doing just that. Operation Gyroscope, bringing in the Rising Tide..."

"I know, Skye."

"You… you understand that a system is only as secure as the people behind it, right? All it would take is one more defector, one more traitor with high enough clearance…"

"Yes, I know, Skye."

"…. that my mission was to keep this hard drive off the grid, and what you're asking for will specifically require me putting it back onto the grid…"

"Skye," Agent Coulson inserted again, softly this time, and she reluctantly trailed off. "I understand what I'm asking you to do. I understand the risk, that it will not longer be the question of  _if_  Hydra gets this data, but  _when_."

She plopped down into his own chair in a completely ungainly fashion. "I don't understand, AC. Why? Why now? Please tell me you aren't doing something crazy. Please tell me that you aren't bargaining with this. Nothing is worth this price."

He crouched down beside her and looked into her big brown eyes as they teared up. He slowly raised a hand to her belly, and rubbed it gently.

Skye's face crumpled in defeat. "No," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Oh Phil, please, no."

"It's not a straight trade, Skye. It's… it's a long shot."

Plump tears began to roll down her cheeks. "No," she begged him again. "Don't do this to us, please. I don't want this to be on me, I can't handle it."

He grasped her cold, pale hands tightly. "It's not on you, not at all. It's on me, Skye, and me alone. I… I talked to Ward. He came to me with information, new information… about Garrett. About what their goals are."

Skye continued to weep, her eyes screwed up tight against the truth. She began to slowly shake her head. "No."

"I have had to… reassess our strategy," he continued softly. "Continuing on our previous course now has unacceptable risks. I've made the decision to…. not to bargain with them, Skye, but at least to find out if we even have the chip they want to bargain for."

"This is a terrible mistake, Phil," she croaked.

He smiled faintly. "No, it's not, I'm sure of that. If the data exists, decrypted, they won't be after you anymore. The only thing I don't know for certain is who will get to the finish line first…. but I'm still pretty confident in our team."

"This is crazy," wept Skye. "So many lives are potentially at risk if they win…"

"I will destroy all our research if we can't give them the specific thing they are looking for, Skye. It won't come to that."

She stared at him. "But… the GH-325. Our blood work… all the work on Extremis and Centipede and the 0-8-4…"

He shrugged. "Nothing stays secret forever, Skye. You taught me that. If we can get the upper hand here, I'll take it…. but I'm not willing to seize it by putting Little Monkey or you in danger. That's my call."

His face was so earnest, so assured that she couldn't stop herself from flinging her arms around his neck and pressing her teary face into his lapel with a loud sob. "Oh man, AC, how did we end up here, like this?" she laughed in spite of herself.

"I'm not so sure," he replied warmly. "I'm not entirely sure how I'm ending up with a grandchild out of this deal either, but I'm not going to complain about it."

Little Monkey performed an enthusiastic twist at that moment, which Coulson and Skye both felt, pressed between them, making them both smile broadly.

"That's the baby's way of saying, 'hey Grandpa, remember that I'm your favourite when it's time to pay for college'," Skye joked.

Agent Coulson grinned. "If your parents haven't given me heart failure before then, Monkey, you've got a deal."


	9. Chapter 9

It was unlikely that anyone else on the base understood Grant Ward quite as well as Natasha Romanoff did. It was simply a matter of how fate had unravelled that saw them on opposite sides of metal bars, through which she was now passing him several fingers of scotch in a paper cup.

"Have you ever heard the story of Menestratus and Cleostratus?" she asked after he had taken a large belt. He shook his head as they both sat down, him on his bunk and her on a folding chair she had brought along with the drink.

Natasha sloshed more of the amber liquid into a second Dixie cup for herself. This had become a regular ritual for them, always immediately following his visits from Skye. Natasha had figured if there was ever a time for a drink, it was right after the pregnant love of your life whom you cruelly betrayed visited you in a military prison. It was a hunch, of course, but she went with it.

"Greek myth?" he inquired.

"Yeah," she replied as she stretched out her legs. "It's a tragic love story, with a Hunger Games sorta vibe. So the Ancient Greek city of Thespiae had a problem in the form of a bad-tempered dragon. Once a year, the citizens would draw lots to pick a sacrifice to be fed to the dragon, to appease it. One year, the lot fell to Cleostratus, who was by accounts the handsomest guy in town, adored by everyone but in particular by his childhood friend and lover, Menestratus. Against Cleo's pleas, he volunteered to go in his place, and the citzens agreed, given that Cleo was the darling of the town. But every night of the month leading up to the day of sacrifice, when Cleostratus would visit Menestratus, he'd bring a big bronze fishhook and hide it, point out, under the plates of Menestratus' armour."

"I think I see where this is going," Ward commented, finishing off his scotch.

Natasha leaned forward and refreshed his cup from the bottle. "Yeah. So when the fateful day arrived, Cleo helped his boyfriend into his armour, and Menestratus went out into the field alone to face his destiny. The dragon swooped in and gobbled him up… and as you've no doubt predicted, the fishhooks tore into the dragon's throat and belly, causing lethal injuries that saved the city of Thespiae from losing any more of its brave citizens."

"But Menestratus still dies, I assume," said Ward.

"I did say it was a  _tragic_  love story, yes. Cleostratus was distraught. He was from the wealthiest family in the city and he had a huge statue of his love built in the centre of the city, to commemorate Menestratus' sacrifice. The townsfolk venerated it, almost like a God. It was said to be one of the most beautiful statues in all of Greece."

Ward and Natasha both stared into their drinks for several moments. "What happened to Cleostratus?" Ward eventually asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think the legend says. Maybe he found someone else. Maybe he got married and had kids and lived happily ever after, who knows."

"Maybe he died of a broken heart at the feet of his lover's statue once it was complete," Ward suggested. "Maybe he threw himself off a cliff or pined away by a river until Zeus turned him into a tree or a clump of bullrushes or a giant sea bass."

"It would be weird to be a clump of bullrushes, don't you think? Rather than just… like... one bullrush?"

"Was there a point to this charming romp through classical mythology, aside from the subtle suggestion that it's time for me to throw myself at the dragon of Thespiae? I hope you're planning to hand me some fishhooks."

"Just one," she said. She pulled the hard drive from the inside of her jacket and slid it through the bars towards him. He stared at it, his mouth hanging open, speechless.

Natasha jiggled the hard drive a couple of times, and he hesitantly reached up for it. "Is… is this…"

"Decrypted?" she supplied. "Yes. There is a single password which will be provided to you by Skye. No one else knows what it is. Barton's made some great guesses, though…. he's had Simmons blushing for days over it."

Ward was staring at the drive suspiciously. "What else is on it? If there's another virus or malware of any kind… they'll be looking for it."

"No, it's clean. There's still a catch, of course… this isn't Christmas. It only contains the data directly relevant to the Centipede Project…. and how to make it work."

Ward's head snapped up. "I'm sorry… make it work?"

Natasha nodded solemnly. "FitzSimmons have been working on this non-stop. Fitz has redesigned all the tech. Simmons went over all of Garrett's SHIELD medical records and they extrapolated likely conditions and the possible applications of Centipede prosthetics. In theory, they believe they've fixed whatever problems Garrett's implants are causing, and prescribed a medical treatment plan based on some Guest House research to go forward. We can't be 100% sure, of course, as neither of them were able to examine the patient, but…. well. They are a pretty brilliant pair, and they were very highly motivated."

Ward was staring at the hard drive again. He lifted his paper cup to his lips, noting with vague interest how severely his hand was trembling as he sipped. "Why would SHIELD allow this…? Who… I don't…understand…."

Natasha exhaled with a short laugh. "SHIELD doesn't exactly exist anymore, Grant. Put it in perspective… the SHIELD files on that hard drive were basically the  _only_  ones that weren't uploaded to the internet when we took down Pierce. It's sort of a drop in the bucket at this point, isn't it? Maybe Skye and her crazy hacker friends are right after all. Maybe information  _should_  be free. Maybe that really is the best way to keep everyone safe."

"Skye… what happens to her?"

Natasha shrugged. "Whatever she wants, I suppose. She's gonna be a mom soon, she can't exactly keep trotting around the globe on dangerous quests. I'm guessing she'll come up with a new identity and settle down somewhere. She mentions Southern California a lot, I think she misses the sun…."

"And the hard drive…? This is intended to keep her safe?" he pressed. "If they get this, she is agreeing to walk away from whatever she's doing here. She will disappear and leave this life behind?"

"Yes."

Ward swallowed the rest of his scotch in one gulp to hide his near-sob of relief. "How will they get the drive?"

"You're the one holding it, Grant. I imagine your friends would probably just shoot anyone else who tried to visit anyway."

He nodded slowly, his mind racing. Had it really come down to this? Was he really going to be able to save John  _and_  Skye, together? "When do I go?" he asked quietly.

"Whenever you're ready, just tell me what you need. And Skye has to give you the password, of course. I think she wants to have a moment with you, privately, as well. She didn't ask outright, but…."

"No, it's fine," he interrupted, almost desperately eager. "I want to see her too. Privately. I want to… to… hold her. All of her. Not just her hands."

Natasha chuckled and raised her hands defensively. "Say no more, please! I don't need the details. I'll talk to Coulson about it. You figure out if there's anything else you need to face the dragon."

Ward held up the hard drive. "Just the fish hook, Agent Romanoff. And when you're talking to Coulson, tell him to start building my statue."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I figured I'd do the Tumblr thing... you can find me there under TortiQuercu, if you're so inclined. :)

 

Even with all the wheels turning as quickly as possible, it was still several days before Ward was standing awkwardly outside the door to Skye's quarters. Agent Barton had crouched down to remove the chains around his ankles while Agent Romanoff was giving him something that was dangerously approaching a pep talk. Barton began to roll his eyes.

"For chrissakes, Nat, he's a big boy. Stop mothering him," Barton groaned.

Natasha frowned at her partner. "You know how much I worry!"

Clint straightened and looked at Grant meaningfully. "Okay kid, you know the deal. Nat and I will be right outside this door. If anything goes to hell, we're going to shoot you first and look for the answers in your entrails afterward."

"So the usual," Ward replied drily, and Barton thumped him on the back cheerfully. "Why does everyone keep doing that?" the specialist complained.

"You have such broad, alluring shoulders," Natasha explained, unlocking Ward's handcuffs.

"Speak for yourself," Barton responded. "It's his ridiculous cheekbones I envy… desperately."

"Heyo, I'm still here!" protested Ward.

Natasha ignored him and ran her thumb softly across Barton's face. "I love you the way you are," she murmured.

"Time to go, Grant," Hawkeye's voice had gone gravelly, his stormy eyes sweeping up and down his partner's frame as her hands settled on his waist.

"Yeah, no shit," the specialist mumbled. He took a deep breath and knocked on Skye's door.

He was wondering to himself why he was so nervous right until she opened the door, then all logical thought left his mind. She was beyond beautiful. Her smile beaming around her perfect white teeth, her brown hair curling softly over her shoulders. Her eyes…. dammit, he would kill a man in defence of those eyes (likely already had, actually) right before losing himself in them completely. It wasn't fair, really, that eyes so big and bright always seemed to be twinkling mischievously for him, always seemed to see right through to his soul (the one he had doubted was still there), always seemed to make his breath catch somewhere in his throat and either stop his heart or set it to racing…..

"Ward!" Skye snapped. He drew his attention back to the present and judged, from the look on her face, that he had missed a previous comment or two.

"Yes," he answered quickly. "Sorry. My mind drifted."

Skye smirked. God, he had missed that smirk. "I can see that. Come in, I want to talk to you before you drift again."

He stepped in and Natasha gestured at Skye. "Panic button, Skye?"

"Got it. Won't need it."

"I know," the Black Widow smiled. "Rules are rules, though."

"I know," Skye nodded at the agents and closed her front door quietly.

Ward was looking around. Skye's quarters were small and spartan but all hers, something rarely seen on bases but doubtless a concession to her pregnancy. There was a small kitchen and living area, a tidily made bed and a door that must lead to a restroom. He thought it was nice of… someone. Whoever was in charge of wherever he was. He suddenly felt very sad that he had no clue what was going on in her life.

Skye smiled shyly at him. "It's funny, isn't it?" she began. "Doesn't seem all that long ago that rules and I didn't get along. Now I'm just your average little rules bunny."

"You'll never be average, in any way, Skye," Ward murmured. "Not to me."

She chuckled and looked down at the ground. "S'nice. Hey so, grab a seat," she gestured with her chin to a pair of grey armchairs. "Do you want a drink?"

He moved into the little living area and sank into one of the armchairs. "Just.. uhh.. just some water, is fine. I can get it, if you'd like…."

She waved him off. "I got it, it's cool. I'm not yet at the completely helpless, beached whale stage of this adventure. I think I can manage a glass of water." She pulled two glasses out of a kitchen cupboard and filled them from the sink.

"So… yeah, about this adventure…" he started uncomfortably.

She sat down in the chair beside him and handed him a glass. "Crazy, right? So yes, I'm pregnant, and yes, it's yours…." her tone was teasing, forcing a smile from him.

"I… I figured that."

"Don't be so quick to assume," she warned him lightly. "After all, I did, and look what happened? The man I thought I knew turned out to be a traitor! That's 'knew' in the biblical sense, too. Sister Marjorie always warned me something like this would happen…."

"Skye," he interrupted softly, his voice pained. "I swear, I didn't know. I didn't expect this…."

"What, a baby?" she laughed. "Okay, I'll give you that one. I admit it was a hell of a shock to me, too."

"I'm sorry," he blurted out.

Her brow furrowed. "For… what? Being virile?"

"All of it," he grimaced. "Betraying you and the team. For leaving you… for leaving you  _like this_ ," he indicated her baby bump. "For not being there when you needed me. If you ever needed me," he lamented quietly.

"I always needed you, Ward," she sighed.

He pressed his lips together tightly, tamping down on his rising emotions. "I'm sorry."

She exhaled a long breath and leaned back in her chair, idly rubbing her belly. "What's your middle name, again?"

"Douglas."

"Douglas, right. I couldn't remember… saw it in your file when I was deleting you from existence, but for some reason I couldn't recall."

"Why do you want to know?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Baby name. I hadn't been giving it much thought, but Jemma says I should probably work on some contenders. It's stressful. A name is… it's a big deal. I mean, I chose my own name as a massive symbolic gesture and now I'm just casually expected to come up with one for another human being. Isn't that absurd? What if he or she hates it? How am I supposed to know what our baby will represent?"

"You  _might_  be overthinking this, Skye."

"Oh yeah? Okay, what's the last name, then?"

"Well, that's… um. Ah."

"See what I mean? This is why I don't even have one. I could pull one out of thin air, sure, but family names are supposed to be inherited and…" she drifted off, staring at her water glass.

"We're not a family," he completed solemnly, and she nodded. "Well.. don't use Douglas, please. Especially if it's a girl."

She grinned. "Even as a surname?"

"Yeah. I've always hated it. It sounds so… stuck-up. Douglas."

"Ohhkay, noted. Hilarious, but noted. I'll come up with something, there's still plenty of time."

Her brow was creased and she was rubbing her belly sadly with both hands. It was all suddenly too much for him, and he pushed himself off his chair towards her, falling on his knees at her feet.

"Skye," he uttered, his voice broken. "I want to be with you, with both of you. But I can't. The one thing I don't have any more of is time. I'm so, so sorry."

Her eyes filled instantly with tears, and she nodded her head. "I know," her voice cracked.

He reached out tentatively, his hands shaking at the sides of her head, searching those huge brown eyes for emotions he was too scared to name. She knew it, and a faint tip of her head gave him the permission he was afraid to request.

He roughly plunged his hands into her thick chestnut hair and met her upturned lips halfway with his own. She made a slight sound, something akin to a gasp or an aching breath, and it sliced him cleanly through the heart. He pulled her deeper into the kiss, unable to stop a groan from rising in his throat. It spurred her on to clutch desperately at him, at his shoulders and neck and chest. Skye slid down from her chair onto his knees and into his lap and twined herself around him and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to walk away from her.

"Please don't go," she whispered urgently. "Please don't do what I think you're going to do…"

"Skye," he breathed into her hair, against her skin.

"Please don't die," she wept softly. "How am I supposed to live without you? How am I supposed to look at our baby every day and tell him that his daddy isn't here because the only way to keep  _us_  safe was to  _die_?"

"Oh, Skye," he whispered at her ear, his lips against the shell of it, making her tremble. "I… I don't know how this happened, but I love you.  _I love you so much_. It's killing me to do this but I'm already a dead man. I was dead the moment I was stupid enough to walk away from you the first time. Don't you understand? I have one shot at making sure you're safe. I have one chance to protect you…. and I'm taking it, whatever the price. I have to."

"But I love you too," she cried, peppering a line of languid kisses down the side of his neck. "And this isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair, my silly Juliet," Ward chuckled, burying his face in her hair. "I won't make promises I can't keep, but I  _can_  promise that the chance to come back to you will be what keeps me going, okay?"

"Okay," murmured Skye. She snuggled into his chest as closely as she could, and sighed. "I guess you'll need the password for the hard drive, then."

"I'd appreciate it."

"I'll tell you if you stay with me tonight."

He looked down at her in disbelief. "What kind of price is that? I was going to beg!"

She laughed throatily and kissed her way back up the column of his neck, eliciting a hungry moan from him. "You can still beg, though." She pressed her lips underneath his ear, where she knew he was ticklish. "The password, Ward. It's Matterhorn."

He growled and wrapped his arms underneath her, smoothly lifting her as he stood up. "You were paying attention," he said with a smile.

"To every word you said," she replied impishly. "I just rarely agreed with you."

He rested his forehead on hers. "Never imagined we'd end up like this… my infuriating rookie, somehow the only thing I can dream of fighting for."

"You're gonna fight, though, yes? You're not just walking in with a bomb strapped to your chest, right?"

His lips twitched for a split second, so fast she didn't notice or worry "This is your night, you bought it fair and square, Skye," he teased, brushing his nose along hers. "Is this really how you want to spend it? Interrogating me? I promise there is no bomb."

_Just a bronze fishhook, a desperate man and a mean & hungry dragon._


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the final chapter of Smooth Seas. Many thanks to the FF and AO3 communities for feedback and support, especially Prawn Crackers, Silverspoon, Bellapaige88, Lily1986, astridv, Salkri Kachemench, Mariavc, Bloodrose101, Wolf's Edge, MYWINTERFIREFLY4, Zaffie and Amanda.
> 
> I recently joined Tumblr for all things tumblish, you can find me there under TortiQuercu, should you so desire. :)

 

Melinda May liked Iowa. It was sunny and green and there were lots of places she could stand and see forever, but never another soul. It suited her well.

They'd headed north from the airport in Waterloo in silence. She drove along an unremarkable highway for a while, before turning off towards a river. They followed alongside the sparkling blue waters for some time, the road eventually turning to gravel and then to dirt, dust kicking up in big dry clouds under the wheels of the pick-up truck. They seemed quite firmly in the proverbial middle of nowhere when May pulled the truck over at the end of a long drive.

She cleared her throat and looked her passenger squarely in the eye. "Well, this is it. Welcome to Bremer County, Iowa…. home of the Morrow family."

Former Agent Grant Ward stared out his window at a mailbox, partly tucked under some broad trees by the driveway. "Morrow," he repeated, his voice unsteady. "The Morrow… family?"

May's lips were tightly pursed. "It's been over a year, Ward," she said as if that should explain everything, but then felt an unexpected twinge of guilt as his face fell. She sighed. "Family. Angela Morrow, her daughter, Hope, and her grandson. Alex.

His face scrunched up in confusion, and May smiled faintly. "Hope is her adopted daughter, a friend of a distant relative…. on the Barton side, or so I'm told."

Realization dawned on Grant face like a beacon. "Hope," he breathed, and May nodded encouragingly. "And… Alex?"

May nodded. "Alexander Ward Morrow, he just turned a year old, actually. They send photos and postcards sometimes to Clint… he shares them with Phil and the team. It's kinda nice."

Was Ward shaking? He felt like he was shaking. He continued to sit, possibly shaking, staring at a metal mailbox with "MORROW" stencilled on it… out in the middle of nowhere, Iowa.

"Ward," May continued softly. "I… I wanted to apologize."

His attention shifted to her, his face puzzled. "Apologize? For what? Jesus, May, I'm the one who fucked everything up for all of us."

"No, that's… you had a mission, Ward. I get it… even if I believe you chose the wrong side. What I'm sorry for is hating you for it. After all our talk about not letting our emotions get the better of us.. I did anyway. The bottom line is that you gave up everything precious to you in order to fix things, with no guarantee you'd survive, and I respect that. I'm sorry I didn't understand that sooner."

Ward blinked at her several times before shrugging. "Okay. I forgive you….? But really, May… trust me on this, but no matter how much you hated me, I hated myself more. And rightfully so. Any anger you had was well-placed."

"I don't like that it consumed me. I shouldn't have let it happen."

Ward chuckled. "There's a time I would have agreed with you. Feelings… feeling something was a choice, I used to believe that too."

"You don't anymore?" she asked with a delicately arched eyebrow.

"No, not at all. Something crazy and impossible happened."

"Skye."

"Skye," he nodded. "Skye happened, and I fell utterly and hopelessly in love, totally outside of my control. Threw my whole universe into chaos, so it's okay… I don't begrudge you your hate. I felt the same."

May stretched her fingers out from the steering wheel. "Well, speaking of chaos… Angela is expecting you. She wanted to meet you first, before telling Skye. She is predictably hesitant and suspicious. You're not the only one in love with that girl. Remember that."

"I'll be on my best behaviour," he promised. He opened the truck door and swung a small duffel bag from the back. "Are you waiting here?"

May nodded. "Yep. I'll be here. Take your time… it's been a long year, no need to start rushing now."

* * *

The gravel crunched under his boots as he slowly proceeded up the drive. There was a broad meadow, filled with wildflowers, blowing gently in the breeze. The meadow eventually gave way to a huge, grassy green yard and a pretty white farmhouse. In the yard was a red swing set, a slide and a sandbox, and in the sandbox was a blond woman in a gingham dress…. and his son.

Even at this distance, it was obvious. The sturdy little boy had a head full of glossy black hair and a jaw that managed to somehow seem square even in his sweet round baby face. He was sitting, legs spread, whacking a pile of sand with the utmost severity and a plastic shovel. Ward stood in the drive for several minutes, gaping at the boy, before the woman noticed him and gestured him forward.

The baby looked up at Ward as he approached, his expression of grave concern almost bringing Ward to laugh out loud. Upon closer inspection, the blond woman was stocky, in her fifties, radiating feelings like "warmth" and "wholesome" with a slight hint of "hurt this baby and I'll bludgeon you to death with a garden rake". Ward approved of her instantly.

"Grant Ward," she stated with a cautious smile as she extended her hand.

"Yes, ma'am," he shook her hand warmly. "Ms. Morrow, is that right?"

"Call me Angela," she nodded. She exhaled a deep breath and propped her hands on her hips. "Well, then. Let's take a look at you. Good grief, there's not much doubt, is there?" She glanced down at the baby and chuckled. "He's a mini you."

Grant followed her gaze and met his son's serious eyes. The pit of his stomach seemed to go into free fall and the air was sucked out of his lungs. Alexander had Skye's eyes, comically large in his head, but everything else about him screamed "Ward". He wondered if the little boy knew, as he chose that moment to bust out a perfect cupid bow smile and laugh. Ward's heart dissolved.

Angela grinned. "That's a good sign! Would you like to hold him? Come here, Alex." Before Ward could comment, Angela had scooped the baby up and stepped to his side.

"I've… um… I've never held a baby before," Grant admitted nervously. Alex reached out with his plastic shovel and slapped his father's arm with it. Grant's eyes widened… it seemed like an unnaturally powerful smack from a toddler. "Did your mother put you up to that?" he asked the baby suspiciously.

"Ha! He's got a strong arm, this kid," Angela chuckled. "Comes from both of you, I guess. I've watched Hope tuck a calf under one arm like it was nothing and drag a sofa up the stairs by herself…. drives me crazy, that girl."

Ward boggled at her, incredulous, trying to imagine Skye carrying a cow of  _any_  age, when Angela took his moment of distraction to thrust the baby into his arms. His heart nearly stopped and he froze in panic.

"Guh," said Alexander, smacking Ward again with his shovel. "Bah bah bah. Buh!" he shrieked joyfully and got in a few more hits with the shovel before Angela intervened.

"That's enough, Alex," she said sternly. "No hitting! Ouch!"

"Uh," said Alexander.

"Wow," said Ward, staring at his son in amazement. The little boy squealed and wiggled. Ward shifted his hold on him, finding to his surprise that he was kind of enjoying the experience. Alexander was tender, warm and smelled like fresh-cut grass and sunshine. He brushed his hand over the baby's head, marvelling at how soft Alex's jet black hair was. Ward smiled broadly at Angela. "He… he's kinda perfect, isn't he?" he beamed.

"Pretty much, yeah," the older woman smiled back. "Sleeps through the night, giggles through the day and healthy as a horse. He's a solid 29 pounds, which isn't so much of a mystery now. Hope never mentioned you were so tall."

"That's because I'm not that tall compared to her," Ward murmured. "I might have the height advantage, but she looms larger than me in every other way."

"Hmmm," Angela replied, her expression serious. "Well I won't argue with you on that one, Grant. You should take Alex inside, he's had enough sun. You'll find Hope in her office, probably. Just go in through the back door and listen for all the computers. I should warn you, though… she didn't know you were coming today. She… umm.. well, she doesn't even know you're alive."

Ward's face darkened. "What? How could no one tell her?"

Angela looked away awkwardly. "Well, it's complicated. We didn't know how it was all going to play out, once you re-appeared a few weeks ago. Clint and Phillip thought it would be best to find out where your loyalties lay before saying anything. I agreed with them, it was unanimous. I don't want Hope to get hurt again." She looked back at him, her eyes burning. "I trust that's perfectly clear with you, Grant. I will not allow you…  _or anyone_ … to mess with my daughter and grandson."

He was still grimacing when Alexander reached out, grabbed one of Ward's fingers, shoved it into his little mouth and began to gnaw with great abandon. Ward yelped.

"He's teething," Angela smiled.

"Yup, I caught that," he winced. He pulled his finger back and gave his son a hard look. "You shouldn't do that, Alex," he said. "You have no idea where my hand has been."

"Gah!" cheered Alexander.

"Haha, you're a natural," Angela laughed. "Go on, let Hope know you're alive. If you use her baby as a shield, she  _probably_  won't kill you."

He grinned and walked slowly towards the back of the house, bobbing Alexander up and down gently (to both of their great amusement).

"Where's Mommy?" he asked Alexander solemnly as he pulled the back screen door open.

"Mah!" shouted Alex.

"That's the one," Grant agreed cheerfully. "Brown hair, brown eyes, light of my life?"

"Mah!"

"You're clever like she is, too, I see. Shhh…. let's listen, like Grandma said. Uhhh… is that Grandma? Or maybe Granny or Gramsy or.. um... Nana…?"

"Nah! Nah nah nuh."

"Well okay, then. So let's listen….." he raised his finger to his lips and cocked his head to the side. He waggled his eyebrows at the baby in his arms, earning him a charming bout of laughter. Despite Alexander's giggles, he was still able to pick out a steady, low hum of computer fans from a room ahead. He moved quietly through the kitchen and down a hall towards the faint noise.

The office door was pulled close but not shut. Just as Ward raised his hand to push it open, Alex began a lengthly babble.

"Mah! Mah! Buh buh buh duh."

The door swung open and there she was, her back to him as she sat in front of the same laptop she'd always had. "Hey Mom," she began before turning around. "I'm about to go fix the fence, do you want me to put Alex down bef…"

She swivelled in her chair and there he was. Standing there, in her house, like it was no thing… white V-neck t-shirt, blue jeans and dusty boots he had neglected to remove at the door. Staring back at her with wide-eyes, mouth pressed into a worried line, holding her son,  _their_  son, close to his chest. The room began to spin and she thought, in a detached way, that it as a lucky thing she was already sitting down.

"Skye…." he began, "… or Hope, or whatever I'm supposed to call you… are you okay?"

She closed her eyes and tried breathing steadily, in through her nose, out through her mouth.

"Mah!" squealed the baby.

She opened her eyes again, but the vision hadn't changed… Grant Ward was still standing in her office, looking at her with an increasingly concerned expression.

"Ward…?" she croaked back at him.

He smiled at her, and oh God her stomach was doing flips and she wasn't sure if she was going to be sick or pass out or maybe just….

"Oh my God, Ward!" she exclaimed, leaping up off her chair and flinging herself towards him, causing him to scramble to shift Alexander and catch her at the same time.

"Ooof!" he grunted with a chuckle as she wrapped her arms around him. She buried her head into his chest, beside their son. He sank his free hand into her hair and crushed his lips against the top of her head. "I told you," he murmured. "I told you that coming back to you would keep me going."

She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face, but a wide smile.

Alexander patted her wet cheeks thoughtfully. "Mah mah."

She laughed and kissed her son lightly on the nose. "Look, Alex! Daddy is here."

Ward leaned down and softly pressed his lips against hers. She sighed happily, and his heart soared. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm sorry it took me so long, but my mission is complete... my last mission. Can I stay?"

"You'd better," she growled.

"Yah!" agreed Alex.

The Morrow family laughed.

* * *

She heard his boots crunching on the gravel long before he arrived beside the truck. When she heard him pause, she lazily opened a single eye into the bright Iowa sun, and sat up in the box of her pick-up truck.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," former Agent Grant Ward said apologetically.

"It's fine," replied Melinda May with a smile. "So. I see you're back, but your duffel bag isn't. I take it things are going to be okay?"

Ward smiled, brighter than the Iowa sun. "He's beautiful, May," he said in a voice filled with awe. "He's the most beautiful little boy in the world."

May slid over to the tailgate and hopped down from the truck. "I'm going to agree with you on that. Like I said before, Clint gets pictures sometimes. That's his... aunt's sister's grandson... or something. I dunno, I was never great with families. But he's an awfully cute little guy. So, are you staying?"

"I am," he said. There was relief in his voice, relief that sounded like the unburdening of years of torment and pain. He held his hand out to her, she took it curiously and he gave it a brisk shake. "I'm Ward Morrow, pleasure to meet you. Thanks for everything... I'm in your debt, truly."

She gave him a wry smile as she pulled the truck keys from her pocket and deposited them into his other hand. "Why don't you hang on to the truck? Seems like something a country man such as yourself might find useful."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, perplexed. "How are you going to get back..."

His question trailed off as the purr of a shiny black Corvette Stingray appearing far down the dirt road caught his attention, a flash of red behind the wheel. He chuckled.

"It's fine," Melinda May nodded sagely. "Looks like  _my_  ride is already here. Well, it's been real, Mr. Morrow. You'd better get back to your family... tell your wife we miss her."

"I will," his voice broke, but only slightly.

May nodded and began to walk back down the road. After several steps, Ward realized with surprise that she was humming a familiar song. He chuckled, and softly began to sing along as he returned back up his driveway.

_"Country roads,_

_take me home_

_to the place_

_I belong._

_Country roads,_

_take me home."_

**FIN**


End file.
